I just signed a rental contract. It was the first place that i looked at. It’s near a park, close to school and the rent is right in the normal range. I will have 3 housemates. Two are brother and sister – postgrads from africa. The third room is unrented. The house comes furnished, has bike parking and a backyard. So it’s acceptable.

I hate shoppimg for things and will always grab the first adequate thing. But i think it’s ok in this case, since my internet search turned up nothing.

I fiund the apartment by walking into a ‘letting agent’ and announcing that i was looking for a houseshare. I let them say they only had one spot before i told them that i had an adorable, small, quiet, adult dog.

It may have been the first house, but it wasn’t the first letting agent. I had been in the offices of every single other agent on the street. It’s the main shopping street near campus, so this was not a small number of agents. You’d think that nobody in the history of student-dom ever had a dog before. Sheesh.

No, i can’t just leave her at home! I’m over 30, not 17. There is no adult figure waiting in the wings to come rescue me should i fall on my first feeble attempts to leave the nest. Well, ok, somebody would probably come rescue me and it wouldn’r be hard to find a permanent home for xena. But it would be permanent.

Anyway, i’m too old to be a student. I need to grow up and join real life. Again.

After signing the contract and emptying my bank account to pay the deposit, i called the airline to ask if i could fly back today. No dice. It’s a weekend in birmingham. Where everybody speaks english – not that you can tell by overhearing.

I should have put some mp3s on my little, travel computer.

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Charles Céleste Hutchins

Supercolliding since 2003

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